The Universal Truth
by Literature work
Summary: Peter goes to the Collector to find what the orb is really about but he comes upon specimen in his gallery that peaks his interest. A Prompt to inspire ideas? Read Authour Note.
1. Chapter 1

_Authour's Note: This is just a fun beginning I wrote. I just wanted to post it as a prompt, maybe help inspire someone else to write a crossover like this. Might finish it... might not. I am not going to finish it now but maybe later. It is just something I work on on my breaks when I blank out on my other stories._

 _ **The Universal Truth**_

Chapter One

The Collector

"Who is this guy you wanted to sell this to?" Peter asked as he tossed the orb lightly between his hands. It gave a slight tingle to the palms as if there was an energy rising out of it. If Ronan wanted it, Peter didn't doubt that it did hold some sort of power or importance to it. However, if this was true, he really didn't have a good feeling selling it to a stranger who held their business in a ruffian's bar. Now, he was no prince or anything, but he didn't consider himself the level of the shit covered gangster with the hooked hand and a shifty eye who was sitting next to him either. Quill scooted his chair a few inches away from the man as if that would stop those creepy eyes from following him everywhere. Gamora smiled cheekily as she leaned back in her chair.

"Better than that weakling you were going to sell it to," she sniped. Peter frowned at her, though begged her to continue. "He's called the Collector. He collects objects, organisms, anything rare unique across the galaxy and the universe. I made a deal with him before you caught us in this mess."

"Let me say that 'this mess'," Quill said, trying his best to mock her attitude, "was a joint effort with you, the raccoon, and the walking bush. Meat head, where ever he is, just joined for the ride." Rocket gave only a stiff growl in retort from where he was pinned in the corner of the booth. He and the Meat head just had gotten into a rather large fight and Quill was still wondering if the raccoons strange lack of insults was because he was still sensitive about being called a vermin, or his mind was occupied on when and where to destroy Drax. Luckily though, for all of their sakes, the Destroyer took a step outside to probably dunk his head in a bucket of water to clear his mind.

"Still your fault," she retorted absent mindedly. Quill pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and shook his head. Sure, he was the one who took the orb to begin with, ran from the Ravagers, and tried to sell it to a person who didn't have any balls. Sure it was the bounty on his head that caused Rocket and Groot to chase after him in the first place, but that nearly did save his life. He was sure that if he and Gamora went at it with no intervention by the bounty hunter tag team, she would have killed him with no remorse and have gotten the orb anyways. So, he sent them all to prison, but no one died. It was also him who took the orb from the planet before Ronan's men could get it, therefore either saving the galaxy from the man's crazy wrath or prolonging its destruction.

"When are we going to see this Collector man then?" Quill sighed.

"Anytime now. Their fight probably gained the man's curiosity-"

"What?" he gasped as he stole a glance to their drunken and upset friend.

"Well, he is a collector of rare things. How many times have you seen a talking animal or a walking humanoid tree?" Gemora asked rhetorically. Quill heard Rocket grumble something under his breath about not being an animal. He rolled his eyes lightly. "We aren't the most normal group, now are we? I don't even think Terrans are that common."

Suddenly a door on the wall next to them opened up and a young pink girl came walking out, her pigtails bouncing behind her gracefully. She wore a huge welcoming smile, which Peter knew never reached her eyes. It was quite a common thing in the Galaxy to be a slave. Some planets banned the trade of humanoids which was something Peter quite agreed with. However, no matter the effort put forth either by himself or an entire solar system, the trade was something that could never be stopped. And so, Peter Quill had given up quite a long time ago. The girl caught sight of them and stepped to the side, beckoning them through the door.

"My master will see you all now," she said with a happy, yet very hollow tone. Quill frowned slightly as he stood up and pocketed the orb in his holster.

The room was very dim, only lit by a few florescent lights on the floors and in the occasional display cages that lined the entrance way and were scattered about the far depths of the establishment. Creatures of all gruesome types were trapped behind the sparkling glass, gnawing at it with their grimy teeth or slimy hands, wanting to get out. Some of the more powerful or dangerous ones had some electrical restraints around them in order to keep them restrained and away from the glass. A slight smell hung in the air that even the most powerful of cleaners couldn't get out but only fade into the background, hidden but not overlooked. It was the smell of feces, of decay, of death. A shiver ran up Quill's spine as he walked down the entranceway, peering into the quite elaborate of cages. Exotic as the creatures were, he couldn't help but notice that the farther they walked into the room, the more humanoid these creatures became.

They twisted their way through the labyrinth of cases before they came upon the center of the room where a man was crouched over an examination table. The strange looking man, dressed in odd shades of white which Peter had absolutely no clue how they didn't manage to get dirty in the state of the place, seemed to be poking and prodding at a small silver object, a pocket watch. The girl skipped over with heavy steps and whispered something into the man's ear who upon hearing it looked up with a rather disappointed look on his face as if he was upset to have been pulled away from his long and enduring work. Sharp black eyes studied them from across the room, examining them like his next specimen. They passed over each one of them. Quill felt himself tense up as the man's eyes seemed to falter on him before continuing on. Once they caught sight of Groot though, the man completely stopped in shock, managing to drop one of the tools he was holding.

"My god," he whispered almost breathless before scurrying over to them in a gust of wind. He got up right close to the walking tree, not leaving the least bit of a centimeter between them. Groot frowned slightly, rather confused and took a tiny step backwards, which the man just followed suit to close the gap. He ran his fingers along the tree's twisted branch legs as if admiring the craftsmanship. Quill saw Rocket start to bare his teeth as the man continued. "How would you like to sell your corpse to me once you passed? Add it to my collection, eh?" the man seemed to chuckle as he licked his lips at the pleasure of the idea.

"Hey! Get your sticky fingers off of him, or I'll put you in your collection!" Rocket scolded the man. Gamora gave him a light kick to the side to make him shut up. Though Quill was glad to see his insults coming back, though they still weren't up to par, this was simply not the time for it. The Collector took a step back as if he was truly offended, though it was quite obvious he wasn't.

"Of natural causes of course! All of my specimens here have come to me by all humane standards," the man tried to assure them. Quill looked around at all of the cages. Now that they were standing in the middle of the room, he could see just how many there were. The room stretched far above their heads littering the walls with cages with even some from there dangling from the ceiling by rusted bands of steel wire. Whether all of the creatures were bought, hunted, captured, or kidnapped, he doubted that the man was telling the truth.

"Well… though it's quite a fascinating amount of stuff you got here, I am afraid my friends and I don't wish to be in it," Quill told him lightly. The man looked at him as if he spoke blasphemy.

"Mr…"

"Starlord-"

"Yes, Starlord. You look like a man who knows a good treasure when he sees one, and this, I am so happy to tell you, is quite more than fascinating. I would like to give you a tour of my gallery and let your eyes see for themselves-"

"We are here to fulfill our previous arrangement," Gamora interrupted motioning to Quill for the orb but the man waved her off lightly.

"It's not going anywhere, I assume. I rarely show people the vast extents of my wealth, but… for a disbeliever's eyes, I simply must," he said with a challenging grin that stretched from ear to ear. Quill felt the shivers run back down his back again as the Collector spun away, his white fur cape billowing behind him. He whisked the battered silver watch off of the table and stuffed it in his pocket possibly for another time before beckoning them deeper into his lair. Gamora sent her elbow into Quills ribs as they all attempted to follow.

"Ow, what was that for?" he whined as he rubbed his sore side.

"You don't insult his gallery!"

"I was complimenting it! Besides, it was his gallery that was going to put Groot's dead body in a box, or possibly make it into a box."

"All we needed was to sell the orb and now we get a tour. He's probably going to give us less for it-"

"Hey, all I want to know is if this thing," Quill said patting his pocket where the orb was securely held, "is going in the right hands or not. It has to be a weapon of some sort. I want to know who we are giving it to."

"That's not you choice to decide," she huffed stubbornly.

"What does it matter anyways? As long as we get paid I say we drop it off to the highest bidder," Rocket snided. Quill rolled his eyes as they continued to follow the strange man through his vast amounts of cages. The way he was blabbering on about each individual creature made Peter think he was a mad man. Though the creatures never failed to entertain them, the farther they went the more Peter regretted doing this. It seemed like hours since they had last seen the door and there was no sign of them yet stopping. Rocket was pretending to shoot himself with his own gun while Groot was actually taking a fascination to one of the displays that held a weird slime monster which slightly resembled a zit. Everyone was shooting annoyed and completely bored glares at Quill but they had no choice but to trudge on. If they were to stop, they surely would have become lost. Though all of the creatures surely were strange and some Quill didn't approve of, there was nothing that labeled the man as an evil fellow, just a crack job with a strange hobby and a twisted sense of humanity. As they neared the entrance, though a couple rows back, the Collector let out a joyous shout as he came upon a rather specific cage.

"Ahh, you simply are going to love this one," he said with a grin, quite distasteful in Quill's perspective. "I got it just half a decade ago. I wanted to show it to you because it is among one of my most rarest and astounding items!" As they got closer to the display Quill came to realise that the creature trapped on the other side of the glass was nothing other than a teenage boy. He was curled up tight in the far corner with his head rested against the polished glass. Golden hair strayed down into his face which was distorted in a restless sleep. What really caught Quill off guard was that the boy had on the electrical restraints which were given to the more dangerous creatures in the other reaches of the man's collection. They separated his gloved hands by an invisible force and there was even a restraint around the kid's neck for extra measure. This boy couldn't have possibly needed those.

"Yes, you are simply going to love it!" the man repeated with a huge unrestrained grin on his face. "It is quite entertaining." The Collector giggled lightly as he pressed a small button on his wrist watch and twisted the face of it. As if in response the restraints around the boy seemed to tighten slightly and a zap of electricity flew out of them. The boy in the display screamed and writhed suddenly, awakened from his unconscious state, and his arms flew up to his neck in an attempt to rip the collar off of him. As soon as it started though, the current stopped and the collector tapped the face of his watch once more which made the restraints fall completely slack. The boy fell tiredly to the floor, still in pain from its torture. Quill frowned slightly as the Collector smiled.

"Come on now, get up! Show us what that science of yours can do! Entertain us," the man chanted to the boy on the other side. The boy lifted his head and piercing golden eyes were shot right at the man in a deathly stare, ignoring everyone around expect the Collector. He forced himself tiredly off of the ground so he was sitting again and just glared even more.

"Alchemie ist nicht zur Unterhaltung!" the boy yelled at the man, completely ignoring the fact that the Collector was the one in charge of the electrical restraints that were on him. However, it was what the boy had said that made Quill stop cold in his tracks.

"Was that… German?" he asked the man. Quill knew many languages in the Galaxy, and could identify even more, but this was the first time since he left earth that he heard any of their languages at all. The Collector nodded his head as he gave a slight kick to a small mechanical contraption on the platform of the cage.

"Translator is constantly breaking down. This is the only display I need it for," he commented lightly. "It is an alchemist, a rare breed, and is even one of the most powerful of them all. What makes it a truly remarkable piece is that it's Terran. Such a primitive planet with no advanced technology in space travel. It is a rare occasion to find one in these far reaches of the galaxy," the man said matter of factly. Quill frowned as he heard the man say this. Though it was quite true Earth didn't have a complex enough space program nor the resources to make it so far out, the man made his planet sound like it had no intelligence at all. They had Albert Einstein, they had Plato, they had Disney World. No civilization could have these things and not be able to call themselves great.

"How did you get him?" Quill asked numbly as he stared at the golden haired boy who had now taken up an attempt to rip the restraints off of himself. They were tight to the skin and refused to move. It was quite obvious from the start the boy was wasting his time.

"I bought it. It was a fair price, even for its condition. However, if you are wondering the seller, I like to keep them quiet." The Collector suddenly turned to Quill and then eyed him slightly with those beady black eyes and leaned in closer. He took a tiny step back from the crazed man as he started to feel the man's breath on his chin.

"You're Terran aren't you?" he asked him suspiciously. Quill opened his mouth to answer but found it shutting again without saying anything. How do you really respond to that, when the man was trying to put you in his gallery? The man reached into his pocket and Quill found his hand faltering towards his gun holster but suddenly the man whipped out a business card from his long white cloak. He handed it to him and then swiftly handed another one back towards Groot. "You two know where I am. If you are willing to make a deal, I gladly accept," he said smoothly.

"What's the use of money if you're in a box?" Rocket mumbled underneath his breath but the collector seemed to ignore him as his attention was caught by the boy in the cage. The kid looked suddenly curious as he walked over to the glass. His eyes had changed from the Collector to Quill in a split second.

"American?" he asked him curiously, the translator beeping out the words with rough static and a heavy accent. Quill, quite stunned, nodded his head.

"Yeah, hamburger, cheesesteaks, and rock and roll. Where are you from?" The boy's face softened lightly and Quill almost saw a shadow of a smile.

"Amestris… or…. Austria… I guess," the boy muttered scratching his head, obviously trying to remember the English word. As he was in deep thought, the collector stepped forward and gently pushed Quill out of the way. The Austrian looked up from his thoughts and seeing the man again, his face quickly hardened and his glare returned.

"Alchemy!" he commanded the child again. The boy, instead of backing down, took another step closer to the glass. He glared daggers into the man as they were only now inches apart.

"Alchemy is not for entertainment," the boy hissed at him, daring him to try anything. Quill thought the Collector would surely electrocute the boy again with the look he was giving him, but instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out that silver watch he was toying with earlier. The boy's eyes widened in shock as he saw it and he reached out like he wanted to snatch it just to forget that there was a wall of glass there. He punched the glass a good time and it sent the entire display rattling. Everyone flinched but the Collector who knew he had the boy beat. "Give it back," he growled at the man, but the man just grinned at the boy.

"I will give it back to you as long as you show my customers here what exactly your powerful art can do," he smiled. The boy frowned as he contemplated the trade for a bit but he soon took a step back still keeping his eyes locked on the Collector. He brought his hands together and clapped them lightly. He bent down and placed his palm on the ground. Blue lights flashed around. Quill thought it was a trick of the light but suddenly the floor started morph and move. It formed and soon with a blinding flash, a sculpture of a horse stood in the middle of the cage floor. The boy stood up and examined his work for a second.

"Ha! Is that his mighty power? He made a statue!" Rocket cackled, clutching his stomach in his laughter. The boy growled and clapped his hands again. He touched the sculpture and it suddenly shot out into huge piring spikes. They hit the glass with such force it threatened to crack it. The entire box rattled and the boy shot a glare towards the rather frightened raccoon, who Quill guessed already shat his pants. However, suddenly the Collector tapped his wrist watch and the boy was sent to the ground in pain. He writhed and clawed at his restraints around his neck but they wouldn't budge. Quill watched, on the verge of being horrified, but the man wasn't stopping. Tears started to bridge the boy's eyes and a scream tore at his lips. Gamora suddenly shot her hand down to his holster and pulled out the strange orb. She held it in front of the Collector, who's eyes were latched maliciously on the Austrian.

"I think we still have business to attend to," she said stiffly. The man looked down with a new glint in his eyes as he caught sight of the orb. He tapped his wrist again and the electricity stopped, leaving the boy breathless and weak on the floor. The restraints quickly tightened once more and locked the boy's hands in their original position, keeping them from clapping again.

"Y-yes, I do believe you have seen the wonderful extent of my collection," he smiled weakly as if the orb put him in a trance. "L-let's take a look here." The man started to lead the group of travellers back to his work desk but Quill's eyes lingered on the boy infront of him. He was still panting a bit from his shock, but was managing to force himself to sit up, snapping himself out of his daze. A look of hopelessness flashed across his face for a second and Quill felt a bit of anger swirl back on him. He tapped the glass lightly with his finger once his group was out of the way. The kid looked a bit startled as his head whipped up in the dirrection of the noise and his golden eyes latched onto his.

"Lass mich allein," Edward mumbled sadly, a huge frown forming on his face. The translator must have broke down again as his german was coming out fully, his accent pure. The kid shifted enough to turn his back on Quill as it seemed he didn't want to talk anymore.

"What's you name?" Quill asked. The kid didn't reply for a second as he must have been translating in his head.

"W-why do you want to know?" he stumbled weakly, nothing above a mutter.

"I just do."

"Bitte," the kid gasped. "Just leave me alone." Quill sighed as he saw the boy curl up a bit as if he was suddenly cold.

"Why do you want the watch?"

"Doesn't matter any more. I am stuck in here. It's out there. I am trillions of miles where I should be-"

"And where is that?" The boy looked up at him, his golden eyes holding a pained memory. Quill wasn't unsettled by the kid's emotion. He felt the same when he was taken from earth and his mother a long time ago. However, there was something darker in his eyes than even what he felt back then. His

"H-home," the alchemist muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authour's Note: Okay well I had this chapter in archives for a while. Just wanted to post it._

 ** _The Universal Truth_**

Chapter 2

Bare Escape

Quill listened to Gamora try and gamble prices for the orb before they even knew what it was. He knew just by looking at the man's expression that it was a very valuable item, may be far more important to him than his entire collection, but he was wound tight for prices. They didn't know what it was so he was trying to pull one over them. Gamora kept the orb from the man as she saw right through that and was trying her hardest to up the prices but the Collector was not budging. Rocket was growing anxious as it was obvious he just wanted to get paid and leave with the orb off of their hands.

"Let's say 40,000?" he said, his eyes not tearing off of the orb. Gamora looked down at it and tossed it lightly in the air with a frown.

"I don't think so. I could turn Peter in for that much," she smirked.

"Hey, harsh," Quill interjected as he plucked the orb out of the air as she tossed it.

"I apologise but, 50,000 is all I can go. I can see you want it off of your hands so any amount should suffice," the Collector commented as he caught Rockett shift his weight impatiently. "Anyways… with how many people chasing you, you are really giving me quite a dangerous trade, are you not?" the man hummed.

"Come on! That means we should get more because we brought that bloody thing here!" Rocket argued. "We don't do dirty work for free! We need something!"

"How about that silver watch in your pocket?" Quill interrupted quickly. His friends turned and looked at him like he was an idiot. He tried to ignore them as he watched the Collector's amused grin.

"This belong to one of my pieces. I don't tend to sell what they have-"

"It's not like he's getting out of there anytime soon, why would he need it?" Quill retorted slyly. Rocket's mouth was hanging open in a mix of shock and rage.

"We can't sell that! I could sell an old shoelace for more!" the racoon cried. Quill roll his eyes as the collector thought it over.

"50,000 and the pocket watch and if you tell us what this orb is, that trade could be yours," he sang as he mimicked Gamora and tossed the orb lightly from hand to hand. His friends were arguing obnoxiously with him now, but they were tuned out as he watched the Collector nod his head. He handed the orb over and the man took it greedily to inspect it, turning it over in his hands. He pulled the pocket watch out of his coat where he saw him put it and replaced it in Quill's outstretched hand.

"I am sure that by the time I am done with this," the Collector muttered, "you will be glad to have it off of your hands."

….

Edward slumped against the wall of his case as he stared dully down at his restraints. They weren't coming off. He knew that his attempts over the years have grown weaker to the point that they were practically nonexistent but he never stopped trying. But now, as he heard the new Terran visitor debating some business with the Collector a little ways away, he found himself unable to even attempt. He found it hopeless. He had been in the Collector's possession for five years now as that man walked free. He was just like him, from the same planet, but he walked free while he was in a cage. Edward curled up and pressed his forehead tightly into his knees. He lost enough already, but now he lost hope. He was never getting out of there.

 _Alphonse is looking for you, you know it,_ the little encouraging voice in his head argued. Edward let out a weak chuckle as he lifted his head and let it rest against one of the four walls that kept him there. He didn't even know where those bastards sold his brother off to. A walking suit of armour definitely was a prize that anyone would want. Edward was just enough for the Collector, his origin keeping his worth, his alchemy giving him reason to stay. The man would never sell him, would never let him go. He saw the evil gleam in the man's eyes as he looked down on him like his new found treasure. Yes, he begged that Alphonse, wherever his little brother was, was in a better place than he. He begged that he would never come here, for if he did, he had a bet that there would be another box just for him. Edward felt a huge hole in his chest as he thought about his brother. He let the realisation sink in that he would never see his little brother again. His eyes grew wet and he furiously tried to wipe them with the shoulder of his coat but they just kept coming. What a fool he had been, dragging his own brother into this mess. It was just another fault on the list of things he did to him. Alphonse didn't deserve this. He was already a prisoner in his own armoured body, he didn't need to be a prisoner in life too.

There was sudden yelling and Edward looked to his right where the Collector's table was a few rows of displays down and over. He could just see the faint outline of the customers through the glass walls of multiple cases. There was a big commotion starting and suddenly a bright light started to grow. It was a sickly purple and it pierced the dim gallery with ferocity. It grew and grew as it almost blinded him and Edward found himself backing up to the opposite wall as if on instinct. There was something not right about it, a dark aura unfolded and he felt himself growing suddenly afraid. His back pressed deeply into the back wall of his cage when suddenly, the light popped.

…

Quill dazedly got up out of the rubble. The room around him was completely demolished, cases frayed to shreds and the metal floors turned up like soil on a field. It was chaos. Loose creatures and displays were running around wild if they survived, finally free after who knows how many years. If not their cold bodies were lying helpless on the floor, lost and forgotten. Quill blinked slightly, getting his vision to settle back down and he looked down in his hands. The orb was glowing with an absolute terrifying light. That was close. When the explosion went off, the infinity stone was exposed and nearly touched the ground in the wreckage. Quill had just enough time to close the orb before it blasted him away with the rest. If that touched the ground, the whole civilization would have died, just like the celestial being it rested in. Yelling started to pick up around him and he felt someone grab him from around the shoulders and heave him to his feet. A sudden dizziness came over him and he stumbled heavily into Gamora who was scolding him to get out of there. The ground was uneven and he tripped, sending himself back down and the orb rolling into the unknown. Voices slurred in his head and arms pulled him back up roughly.

"Get up you fool," Gamora yelled, giving him a light shove. "We need to get out of here!" Quill stumbled forward, off footedly as he chased dumbly after the orb where he saw it disappear.

"Leave it!" she ordered as she tried to change his direction but he pushed on ignoring her feeble please.

"You know just as well as I do w-what that thing could do in the wrong hands," he scolded her as he pushed past some rubble. "We can't leave it." Gamora rolled her eyes and followed him as they sifted through the rubble. Rockett must have already left the debri filled room with Groot as they were nowhere to be seen, either that or they were vaporized to dust but Peter liked to stay positive. They wandered a few rows of cages back before he saw the orb perched next to a dismantled display. He ran over to it carefully and picked it up gingerly as if it was going to explode again. He should have known that if they were throwing it back and forth like a softball before, that they would be able to do it again even now that they knew it was a dangerous world destroying bomb ready to go off if it ever opened back up. However now the idea of tossing a nuclear war head around like a toy was rather unsettling and it turned his stomach making him feel sick.

Quill slid the orb into his holster where it would be safe and out of the way. As he stood up to leave, his eyes caught onto something else beneath the rubble. Around the shattered glass that coated the floors, large metal steel beams of the cases and the ceiling laid criss crossed over each other in a mess of scrap metal. Piercing screws and bolts stuck out of the debri at every angle and threatened to pierce anyone who got too close. However they looked like they already had. Quill felt his stomach finally drop as he stared at the limp form of the golden haired Austrian in front of him. He was ungraciously pinned beneath several of the large beams, a small stream of blood flowing down off of his back where a sharpened edge of metal must have had him pierced. Peter felt his legs give out on him as he crawled his way through the broken glass where the boy was. His arms were limp and outstretched, still bound by the shackles they were in, and peter picked up his right one, feeling it to be stiff and cold. He had to be dead. Peter bit his lip as he simply stared at the boy, some water gathered in his eyes. He reached into his pocket where he had put his newly traded pocket watch. This really was the reason he got the thing in the first place. The kid had such a defeated look to him, something that he never wanted to see again. Though Quill would have loved to just get him out of there from the get go, he knew that the Collector would never sell such a piece he was admirable about. He just guessed that getting the pocket watch would have given the kid a tiny bit of hope left, even in a situation as depressing and pointless as his. He wanted to give it back to its owner but now it was too late. The only human, the only person from Terra he met in over 15 years was now gone. He couldn't comprehend it. He was just a boy, taken like he was. Why did this have to happen to him?

"Peter, he's dead. We got to go now," Gamora insisted, not wanting to be there any longer than they had to. With the explosion there would sure be an attraction of people, none of which they probably would like to be caught with. Quill numbly nodded his head and pressed the silver watch into the boy's left hand and curled his fingers around it. There was no point in him keeping it. Just as he was about to stand up, a slight motion caught his eye. The tiny feeble hand slightly tightened around the object as it blindly felt it. Quill's heart lept into his chest as he dropped back down to his knees and tried to lift one of the huge steel beams out of the way.

"He's still alive! Help me!" he ordered Gamora as he frantically pushed and shoved at the beams to get them off but they wouldn't budge. However like the beam she didn't move.

"We are not taking another person on our ship-"

"My ship, my rules," he corrected her in a huff. "If I didn't have one you would still be in the cell block with all of those lovely friends of yours."

"Peter we just can't steal him. He would just be another reason for people to come after us-"

"Well I can't just run away and leave him! We are all wanted criminals anyways, we have enough reasons to be chased down, what's one more?""

"First it was your cruddy music box, now it is a little boy. You can't have everything you want. You are going to get us caught."

"I can sure as hell try."

"I am Groot," they heard Groot say above them. Quill looked up to see the towering bush standing over them. He still didn't know what the thing was saying, Rockett was the only person who could translate it at all. An entire language built off of three words was just a little too advanced for Quill to learn, or rather primitive, he couldn't tell. However, he had to guess that they were just taking too long that Groot had to come back in and get them due to Rockett's impatience. But Quill had to admit his luck as the big tree was there.

"Groot, please help me with this,"he begged, patting the metal beams. The humanoid tree complied and his arms started to grow into large twisted branches that wrapped around the metal supports. With one swing of his arm, Groot flung the beams across the room and out of sight as if it was a feather. Quill bent down and examined the boy a little better. Yes, his back was coated in the crimson blood as it appeared his shoulder was terribly maimed by the metal but now that the rubble was off of him Quill could actually see the small and shallow breaths that the boy was taking, if the rise and fall of his shuddering back was any sign. Quill stooped down and picked the boy up, putting his arm between his legs and draping his body over his shoulder as he saw many of the firemen in the movies he had seen as a little kid do. It was a lot harder than he had imagined as the films made it look so easy, especially when the kid weighed a ton more than he looked. The boy being a dead weight also wasn't helping.

As soon as he had him, the three of them went racing out of the pummeled room that was all but scrap now. It was amazing how much the gallery kept the explosion contained as the bar it was connected to seemed to be alright aside from some singed walls and broken glass from the earthquake it must have caused. Quill ran through the bar, jumping over a few tussled and drunken people who didn't feel the need to get up from where they had tripped, and sped out of the door. Rockett as well as Drax were waiting outside, arguing with each other whether to leave them all behind and assume them dead or to wait there for ten more minutes and see if they showed their face. Drax was wet as it seemed that he dunked his head in a barrel of cold water in an attempt to sober up a bit from his fight with Rockett. They seemed on better terms but it wasn't like they were friends to begin with. Quill had to guess that with both of their feelings hurt, it at least gave them common ground to work with. Now he provided even more.

"Why do you have that thing!" Rocket exclaimed as he pointed to the kid that was around his shoulders. Quill shifted the boy's weight on his shoulders but held him tight. Before he could defend his case or before the raccoon could insult him any more something else caught his eye. "Why in the world do you still have it!" Rockett shouted as he pointed to the orb that was sticking out of his holster.

"Someone needs to make sure it doesn't get into the wrong hands," he retorted as they started to turn to race to their own ship.

"It doesn't have to be us! Let him destroy the galaxy. We should just get out of here as fast as we can!" he cried.

"I want to save it because I am one of the idiots who lives in it!"

"This orb thing, Ronan wants it, correct?" Drax asked curiously. Peter nodded his head as he pressed a button on his wrist and the ramp into his ship lowered. They had found a rather available parking spot just outside of the bar even though the rest of the planet seemed to be congested with construction droids.

"Yes. We just need to keep it from him before-"

"No. I say we use it to lure him in and then slay him where he stands."

"Do you want to get yourself killed?" Gamora asked as she stepped onto the ramp. "Ronan will barely lift a finger to kill you."

"He will need more than his finger to destroy me-"

"We aren't starting this. All we got to do is turn it into the Nova Corps and they will take care of it-" Peter started but Rockett kicked him in the shins. It was all he could to with his height but it was enough to offset Quill's balance and he stumbled backwards a bit.

"Are you an idiot? We have bounties on our heads. If we go back there we are so dead!" he complained. It was a stupid suggestion since they had just escaped from the prison that the Nova Corps themselves sent them to and they were undoubtedly labeled as Public Enemy No. 1. People probably thought of them as a terrifying gang that ravaged the galaxy for women and riches. Even walking into the bar earlier that day they saw some people who had no sense of bravery in them shy away into the corners. Peter never thought of himself as menacing even when he was part of the Ravagers. However, if they get captured or not wasn't part of the issue at hand. They just needed to get the orb to a safe place. They couldn't just leave something as powerful as that lying around.

"My ship my rules," he said again as he let the rest of them file onto the ramp. Rockett growled in anger as he shuffled his way up into the ship. Quill was sure he heard him say something rather inappropriate under his breath but he chose to ignore it at that point. Suddenly they all stopped as they heard people shout behind them. It was group of average ruffians who were stumbling out of the bar, blasters in hands and ready to fire at their targets which was most likely them.

"Stop them! They stole from the Collector!" they raged.

"Get his prize alive! Shoot the rest dead!" Blasters started firing and they all turned heel and raced onto the Milano in an effort not to get blown to smithereens. Now, Quill knew that not only taking the orb that they had already traded fairly to the man but also one of his prised pieces in his gallery would have set another bounty on their heads by the Collector himself. However, he didn't realise that it would have happened so fast. The bounty hunters already in the bar were after them, and he didn't know how far the message had spread. They could be running into trouble as far as Xandor maybe even farther. Gamora hopped into the pilot's seat as Peter hit the button to close the entrance to the ship. He deposited the unconscious Austrian into one of the open seats in the bay and strapped him in as fast as possible so that when they took off his limp body wouldn't suffer any more damage than it already attained. Peter heard the engines start to kick on and he felt the shift in the floors as the Milano started to take off. He raced himself to the cockpit and buckled himself into the co pilot's seat just in time for Gamora to kick the thrust.

In a reality, a couple of low carbine rifles and a few revolvers couldn't do much to the ship's strong exterior but that didn't mean that they were going to wait around for them to find some bigger ammunition or more manpower to take them down. They were trying to avoid confrontation in outsiders, not jump head deep in every fight they could get their fists in. As they sped past the bar, their wingtips nearly nicking the neon lit sign that was hanging dangerously from the top of it, Quill spotted a white clad figure amongst the quabble of angry men they knocked over in their wake. It was the Collector, looking more malicious than he ever saw him before. The man was a cool headed fellow, a manipulator of sorts, but the look he bore at them before they sped off into the depths of the galaxy was one of pure revile. They had stolen something important to him and Quill could tell that it wasn't just the orb the man was after now.

….

"Great, this is great!" Rockett angrily exclaimed as they finally set themselves to cruise in the farther reaches of space where they knew that the thugs from the bar couldn't easily track them. It had been a couple hours till they found themselves far enough away from the creepy space skull to feel comfortable. "I told you, I told you we would run into trouble because of your stupid heroics, didn't I?"

"I told him too," Gamora added with a nod of her head. Peter rolled his eyes as he unbuckled himself from his seat and headed towards the bay, his team following closely behind him. Several of their few measley belongings were toppled over from the speed of their escape but the rest of the ship seemed to be fine. Quill headed over to his stereo and took the tape out of his walkman and slid it in so that they could listen to it while they worked. He knew that everyone else was tired of the same songs playing over and over again but it was the best that they had, and the only thing he wanted to listen to. He pressed play and Rockett groaned hearing the beginning of the Escape Song all over again.

"Why can't we listen to peace and quiet for once, eh?" Rockett complained.

"There is never quiet with you around," Peter commented as he turned his back to the radio to see the raccoon glaring daggers at him.

"I am Groot."

"What do you mean he's awake?" Rockett asked the walking bush, thinking he was trying to make his own insult for Quill but Groot pointed one of his gnarled hands over to one of the seats that lined the middle wall of the bay. They all turned to see the young Austrian struggle lightly in his seat. He looked to have just woken up a few seconds ago and wasn't fully aware of where he was at that moment. He tried to get up several times but didn't seem to realise that there was a harness keeping him in his seat.

"Ficken diese!" he groaned as he struggled with his bound arms to try and unbuckle himself. It just ended with him thrashing helplessly in his seat upsetting his wounds even more. The boy winced in pain and let out a little yelp as he hit his shoulder. Peter quickly walked over to him and knelt down in front of him, catching his attention. Golden eyes snapped to his and the boy seemed to calm down a bit as he saw a near familiar face.

"Hey there!" Peter said happily making the boy slightly confused.

"Um… Hallo?" he replied questionably. He sounded tired, and Quill didn't blame him. He undoubtedly hit his head and he bled a lot from his shoulder so fatigue wasn't abnormal. He looked slightly scared of what was going to happen and was tense but not seeing the Collector around was probably what was keeping him from freaking out. Peter smiled at him to show that he wasn't a threat.

"Ich heisse Peter Quill, aber Sie können mich anrufen Starlord," he said pointing to himself. The kid looked surprised as he knew fluent German. "Gamora, Groot, Drax, und Rockett," he introduced everyone. The kid glanced around at everyone warily but soon seemed satisfied with everyone except Rockett. He seemed rather distasteful towards the raccoon and Peter knew it wasn't on him personally.

"Edward Elric die Vollmetall Alchimist," the kid introduced himself.

"Does he only speak this weird language?" Drax asked lightly but Peter shrugged.

"He would only really know German or English, both of which you don't know-"

"I am Groot-"

"What! You understand him now?" Rockett exclaimed at the trees statement. It nodded its head.

"I am Groot."

"Well frankly I am impressed," Rockett muttered. The boy winced slightly as the jar in his shoulder acted up again and Peter frowned seeing as they still didn't get anywhere with the boys status. He quickly gave Rockett a little shove forward ignoring both of their discomfort.

"Rockett werden , dass Sie Ihre Fesseln," he told the boy who seemed to become quite alarmed at the statement. Edward shook his head and pulled his hands back to try and keep them from him.

"Bleib zurü -stay back," he stuttered a translation as he pushed backwards in the seat he was strapped to, irritating his shoulder even more. The entire team seemed to be suddenly alerted by the kid's change of demeanor even though most of them were lost in the conversation. Peter was a little taken back as he was sure that the kid would have wanted to get the restraints off as fast as possible. He didn't know what was making the boy change his mind.

"What did you say?" Gamora asked him, still keeping her eyes on the new stranger. She obviously didn't trust him, none of them did. Peter knew that with everyone's backgrounds and their even more rocky relationships, his friends were not the most trustworthy of people. They had the right not to be, either being abandoned, hurt, or betrayed, each one of them had a reason not to like strange people, and it seemed that Edward felt the same. However, Peter always liked to look for the best in people, no matter how hard that could be in some cases, especially with Rockett who had a mouth as wide as the Atlantic ocean when it came to foul language.

"I told him that Rockett will help break his restraints but he apparently doesn't want them off," Peter told her.

"Hey! Don't volunteer me for stuff! I don't even want to help the guy! Why don't you do it?" the raccoon complained.

"You are the tech expert here-"

"I don't want to do it!"

"Well I can't do it!"

"You should have thought about that before picking him up!"

"Like I was just going to leave him there because he had his hands tied," Peter argued but Rockett was unbelievable and crossed his arms in defiance, refusing to do it. "Look," he started trying to convince the raccoon rather than to simply banter, "the cuffs did those weird electrocutey stuff. If you take them off you can use them to your own devices and make something from them. I know you were looking for more material to use. You can have that instead of trying to destroy my stereo."

"I was trying to stop your bloody music," Rocket muttered as they listened to the song change. The raccoon weighed his decisions but Peter knew that he was a sucker for new things to tinker with. Apparently he was trying to make a super explosive from their common appliances. He didn't know how he got, even if it was equipped, but having his silverware stolen for its creation was getting quite annoying. Rockett decided with the better option and agreed to help the Austrian. He raced off into the bowels of the Milano and grabbed his small tool chest that he acquired from a mechanic they had knocked out in the prison during their escape. Scurrying back, Rockett slapped the box on the nearby table and hopped onto Edward's lap. The boy flinched and tried to pull away from Rockett in shock and what almost appeared as fear. He moved his shackled arms around, trying to keep them out of the raccoons reach. It was a good thing that the boy was belted to the seat or Peter was sure that he would have kicked Rockett across the room.

"Why isn't the little idiot sitting still?" Rockett complained.

"Stopp! Du kannst nicht!"

"Warum konnen wir nicht helfen?" Peter quickly asked as the boy tried to fight Rocket off of him.

"Es wird mir einen Stromschlag, wenn Sie es falsch machen!" Edward exclaimed. He finally shoved Rockett off of him and the raccoon went skidding to the ground. The boy started to singlehandedly unbuckle the harness from around himself but his shackled hands kept slipping off of it. Rockett got up angrilly. He looked like he wanted to sock the kid so hard his face would implode, but Gamora held him back.

"What is it that the little one said?" Drax asked curiously as he simply watched the boy struggle. He seemed to be getting a little aggravated himself as he couldn't understand them at all.

"Calm down, calm down," Peter quickly told the boy in english as he lightly shook him. The boy hissed as he accidentally grabbed his wounded shoulder and Peter quickly pulled back. His hand was coated in a thick layer of blood just by touching the boy. They needed to help him as soon as possible. He showed his hand to the kid and he looked a little taken back as if he didn't realise he was bleeding at all.

"Blut?" the boy mumbled to himself as he stared at his reddened hand in awe. Peter nodded his head.

"Ja, aber wir sind hier, um ihnen zu helfen," Peter coaxed him. "Mussen Sie nur uns vertrauen."

"Aber sie werden mich toten!" Edward shouted in fright.

"Vertrau uns! Trust us!" he yelled at him. The boy's mouth clamped shut at his statement and something of what seemed to be a memory flashed through his eyes before he numbly nodded his head. His muscles seemed to relax and the boy went slightly limp in defeat. Rockett looked at him cautiously as if he was wondering if it was now safe to even approach the boy. Peter sighed and massaged his temples tiredly. The kid was a lot harder to handle than he thought.

"What was that all about?" Gamora asked.

"He said that if we don't take the cuffs off right, they will electrocute him…. dead… I just told him that we were trying to help but he was just a bit shaken that's all," Peter told her as he watched Rockett clamber back onto the kid's lap again, now eying the boy to make sure he didn't do anything stupid again. "He hasn't seen anyone, or probably talked to anyone in about five years…. the only person he probably really saw was the Collector and that couldn't be fun if he was in control of the restraints…. I could understand why he would be a little untrusting." Rockett took out a pick and screwdriver and started to tinker with one of the plates on the boy's cuff. The kid looked really uneasy but he wasn't fighting it so it seemed to be alright. As soon as the plate was off Rockett let out an amused whistle as he stared into the mess of wires and bolts.

"Yup, he's dead," Rockett muttered as he lifted the boy's hand to get a closer look. "The whole thing is connected through a magnetic field. If one of the restraints is cut off, the others would be triggered unless you got the key, which I bet was blown up with the crazy wack job back there. He is a walking stiff."

"You would think that a person who collects organisms wouldn't want to put that on them in case they accidentally kill themselves," Gamora stated.

"I am Groot."

"Yeah, you got a point there buddy," Rockett huffed as he sat back and examined the other hand to see if they were the same. "He wanted Groot's, Starboy's, and my own corpses so I guess it wouldn't really matter to him." In defeat, Rockett lowered the boy's other hand and turned to them. "They are the same, I can't break either without something happening."

"There has to be a main source, if you take that out then it won't work," Gamora said as she stepped closer for her own look. "What about the one around his neck?"

"Well, let's see," Rockett hummed. He climbed onto the armrest of the chair and started to work on the restraint that was wrapped around the boy's neck. The kid looked rather uncomfortable with the racoon that close to his head but it was the only way he could get to it. Edward bit his lip and tried to lean away from Rockett but Peter was worried that he was going to start fighting him again. There were a lot of dangerous wires sticking out of his shackles right now, if any of them were tampered with even on accident it wouldn't be good.

"Hey, nicht achten auf ihn," Peter said calmly to him. The golden eyes snapped from where Rockett was working to him immediately as he said that. Panic flooded them and Peter knew that he was afraid. "Don't pay attention to him," he repeated in english.

"Ich….. I a-am not t-trying to," Edward stuttered through his english. Suddenly there was loud beeping coming from the boy's restraints.

"Well that's not good," Rockett muttered. Edward looked down as his cuffs tightened around him, golden eyes wide in fear. They were going to electrocute him.

"Hau sie ab jetzt! Schneiden die linke!" he exclaimed.

"What in the world is he saying!" Rockett screamed as he furiously tried to get the boy to sit still so he could try to figure out how to fix it.

"Cut the left on off," Peter ordered him. "Take the left one off line."

"But that will for sure kill him you idiot!"

"Just do it," he scolded the mechanic. Peter didn't know what the kid was thinking but he seemed to trust in himself that it would work. Rockett quickly grabbed a bunch of the exposed wires on the boy's left hand shackle and just ripped them out. Edward started to scream as the restraints started to send volts of electricity through him. It was painful to even watch as the boy struggled to place his hands together. Peter remembered the strange magic the kid performed before in the gallery. The Collector called it Alchemy. Aside from hocus pocus tricks that cheesy magicians performed for birthday parties, Peter had never seen such power from a Terran before, which quite surprised him. However now he realised that the boy was going to use it to break himself free. All he needed was his one arm free and then for the cuffs not to kill him before he did it. As soon as the boy's hands clapped together, he slapped his left on the collar that was around his neck and it shattered to a million pieces in a flash of light. The instant it did so, all connection was lost and the current stopped, leaving the boy exhausted and limp in his seat. If the harness still wasn't on him Peter was sure that he would have fallen and gotten a concussion. His hands weakly clapped again and he touched the deactivated cuffs on his arm, destroying them each in turn. He was finally free.

"Scheisse," he groaned tiredly, his body still twitching from the current that went through it. Peter carefully unbuckled the kid from the seat and he collapsed into him, unable to hold himself up.

"Don't worry I got you," Peter sighed in english. "You're safe-"

"D-does this… mean I a-am free?" Edward whispered as if still in shock from the whole endeavor. Peter looked down to see the golden eyes looking up at him with a slight glimmer of battered hope. He was beaten, he looked defeated, but the hope still dimly shined in the boy's eyes. It had been five years since he could move freely without being commanded. It had been five years since he probably seen a Teran, and even five years since he left the confines of his cage. Freedom was something the kid probably forgot was real. Peter nodded his head and he saw the kid's eyes welled up as he smiled tiredly in disbelief. "D-danke. Danke, danke, danke," he cried softly over and over again.

With that, everyone, even Rocket, knew that they had done the right thing.


End file.
